Football is an international language. It is a religion, a dream, a way of life and in the immortal words of perhaps the greatest manager of them all (who turned out for the Arsenal during the war and spent the night sleeping in the Highbury dressing room), it is more important than life itself. It is an addiction of course, and whilst 40 years as a Gooner leave me with the sense that I have seen it all before, my middle-aged mood is still so much better after a win and 3 more points.
I have indeed seen it all in my 40 years as a Gunner ("Gooner" is not a title for an Arsenal supporter of such antiquity). My initiation in April 1970 was the famous Fairs Cup final win against Anderlecht. This was the club's first trophy for 17 years. As a (just) 7 year old I saw more of the back of the man sitting or rather jumping up and down in front of me than any of the action. I recall the incredible noise and the flash of blond hair of Eddie Kelly as he struck the opening goal. 1971 followed. A momentous achievement and still the greatest of the 3 doubles. Then the barren 70s. Muddy pitches, tackles from behind, no perimeter advertising. Childhood for most of us was spoilt by the domination of Liverpool. Then the euphoria of 1979. The brilliant and under-rated Stroller years and then the art of Monsieur Wenger.
In this blog, I will chronicle the suffering of a 40 something Gunner. I will recall the Highbury years, the few moments of triumph, the many years of nothingness, the angst of the average supporter of a club that seems to punch below its weight (or am I imagining this ? )
It is the end of July. My thoughts stangely turn to the figure 333,333.33. That was the fee Arsenal paid Newcastle in 1976 for Malcolm MacDonald. "Supermac" was a swashbuckling centre forward of a type no longer seen in this country. Supermac could do 3 things very well: shoot, head the ball and sprint like an olympian over 10 yards. He was a big presence, a man to lift an ordinary team to new heights. The fact that in his first game we lost at home to Bristol City of all teams, is long forgotten. And frankly even in defeat, Supermac with his barrel chest and bandy legs looked fantastic in Arsenal red. He was something out of comic strip. What we would all give for a Supermac type talisman today. His fee now would be perhaps 30 or 40 million. Such an acquisition is truly the stuff of dreams. But what if we were to sign one big name ? Our manager is of course too shrewd to do that. Expectations are carefully managed. If we lose at home to newly promoted teams it is because we have a young team who are still learning. This is of course nonsensical.
It is time to take risks. A big name signing would set the place alight - for at least 30 minutes. But do not dare to dream and the 60,000 supporters at each home game, will never be too disappointed.
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